Reverence
by Eyesinthenight102
Summary: As Mulan sits alone on sentry duty, memories of her past begin to haunt her... Only the strong spirit of a Princess can mend the broken heart of a Warrior, and show her that though there is darkness in the world, there can also be light. (Sleeping Warrior/Mulora -though a wee bit of Mulan/Phillip initially) Please read and review! :) My first fic for this pairing!
1. Chapter 1

Reverence

Chapter 1

The forest was still. Only the rustle of a chill autumn breeze shifted the shadowy leaves in the darkened woodlands. A full moon sat perched, bird-like, high among the branches of a gnarled old oak and skittering shadows were the only signs of the night's creatures coming out to play. A single pair of eyes, dark as the velvet sky, watched the undergrowth, scanning for danger. The Warrior knelt, legs folded beneath her upon a large outcropping of rock, carefully waiting. Her ears were keen and pricked to any danger, senses sharpened by training and tempered by years of war.

Armor of the finest tooled leather and plate was supple, dark, and sleek in the ethereal moonlight. The blood red designs reflected scrawling images of dragons and swirling sigils. Though the gear had seen many winters, it was still in immaculate condition: a sign of the wearer's care and attention to detail. A naked sword sat flat upon her lap, free from its scabbard. Its blade honed to razor sharpness, glinting coldly in the light of the stars.

Dark hair, smooth as oiled satin, pulled into an elaborate ponytail cascaded down her back. Metal circlets kept it swept high and out of the way, lest the midnight-colored tresses impede her stealth and skill in the fervor of battle.

The distant stars of her ancestors seemed empty and cold as they gazed down from on high. Watching, as the 'Greatest Warrior in all of China' undertook her latest self-appointed duty of nocturnal sentry. Her breathing was slow, controlled, and even. Her mind was centered on the task at hand. Meditation and focus brought keen alertness to the senses of the battle-tested Mulan as she kept her solitary nightly watch.

Far off an owl hooted balefully.

_The forest was a very lonely place._ She thought. _Not unlike the world itself._

She breathed in, steady, through her nose, trying to center herself and seal away the memories that tugged mockingly at the edges of her consciousness. The whispered tendrils of thought came unbidden anyway, breaking through her mind's hard blockades, and hatefully replaying in broken shards in her mind's eye.

"_When she wakes…we don't tell her everything, yes?" Phillip whispered, his dark eyes pleading silently for her discretion. A silent nod was all she could muster at the time, a hard lump swelling in the Warrior's throat. He was a man she respected, a man she had protected, and perhaps even loved…but she had always known his heart belonged to another…someone she could never be._

An old song somehow found its way to her lips.

"_**Look at me…I will never pass for a perfect bride. Or a perfect daughter…"**_

The old lyrics rang hateful and callously true. Mulan clenched her jaw, ignoring the pain, and running her fingers delicately over the filigree of her sword hilt. She had never been the woman her parents had wanted. Never the submissive bride, nor the classic lotus-blossom beauty sought by the men and matchmakers of the land. She had always been headstrong.

Her destiny, she'd known, was more than simply pouring tea. She'd taken matters into her own hands when given the opportunity. Stolen her father's armor, both to protect her family and to prove that she could be far more than they'd said. Hungry to show she was as good as any son her father had ever wanted.

When she'd returned, almost a year and a half later, she's been initially welcomed with open arms and praised. Her bravery was lauded, and tales of her prowess as a Warrior brought great honor to her family…but, as with all things, that had lasted only a few short seasons. As the lotus-blossoms upon the trees died, so did the prestige attributed to the name Fa-Mulan.

People did not often take kindly to change…and even less so to the bold deeds of a lowly woman questioning hundreds of years of tradition. The Emperor may have pardoned her, but the hard gazes of the townsfolk were far more condemning.

Foolish braggarts and jealousy had fueled the embers of hate in the hearts of some of the men in her village into bitter words and deeds. Jealousy soon turned to scornful spitting remarks, and hate shifted easily to threats, before Mulan had decided to pack her gear and saddle her horse. She had run away to war to save her family, and again-she realized-she would have to run to spare them the disgrace that her 'uncouth and womanly deeds' had brought.

She had ridden alone a long time, hiding herself in taverns and way-houses, living as a vagabond until she'd happened to meet her Prince.

Sheer happenstance and fortune had been with her that day, and she'd chanced to see a young man being accosted on the road by bandits… little did she know that by defending the scruffy-looking fellow, she had inadvertently saved a Prince of royal lineage. From that day forth, she and Philip had become fast friends.

He spoke with her freely, as an equal, and she genuinely enjoyed his company. He did not ask about her past and she, in turn, did not ask of his. One thing he did share, though, was his valiant quest in search of his love.

"She is the song of my heart." He would say, grinning crookedly. "I have never met a woman whom I loved so dearly as my Aurora. She is everything a man could want…beauty and grace." And his eyes would mist over and grow distant as he pondered the face of his love.

"_Perhaps someone could find me beautiful…"_ Mulan would think, watching her companion sigh and moon over a face only he could see. _"…Perhaps someday you could love me that way."_

But her honor and respect for Phillip as a man, and her duty to respect the yearnings of his heart, had kept her tongue still and her thoughts as distant fantasies.

The whisper of leaves and snapping of undergrowth tore Mulan from her reveries. Something big was close, and stalking towards her in the shadowy woods. The wanderings of her mind had kept her from detecting the presence sooner. Fear and fury thrilled simultaneously through her veins. She turned towards the sound, rising to her feet in a flash, sword in hand and a savage scowl on her face.

"Who's there? Show yourself." She snarled; muscles corded and taught like coiled springs.


	2. Chapter 2

Reverence

Chapter 2

A gasp and an 'oof' answered her growled threat, as a tangle of dark tresses and purple fabric tumbled into the clearing. Eyes as blue as crystal and as clear as a summer sky gazed at the tip of the sword leveled at her throat. Her breath rose in tiny puffs in the chill air.

"I couldn't sleep." Aurora explained, drawing herself up and dusting herself off with impeccable grace. "I thought you could use some company."

Mulan slid her sword into its scabbard with a resounding 'snick'. She gritted her teeth and tried to slow the pounding of her own heart. Her peaceful meditation had been interrupted, and her embarrassment at being nearly caught unawares made her tone more clipped than usual. "You shouldn't be out here. It's dangerous."

"I can handle it." The young Princess raised her chin defiantly, trying to appear brave. The softness of her face and gentility of her figure made the display almost comical to Mulan's eye. The girl had spirit, but surely she was as fragile as a dove.

Aurora cocked her head, and took a step closer, studying Mulan closely. "Were…you crying?" she asked, delicate brows arching in consternation and confusion.

Mulan's hand flashed to her cheeks, and found them damp and slick with tears she had unknowingly shed. The flashbacks of her past were still fresh and raw like wounds in her heart. The tears had come like her memories, unexpectedly and unwanted. Warriors did not cry.

"No. The chill in the air makes my eyes water." Mulan covered, hastily wiping the wetness from her flushed face. "How did you find me?" she growled, dodging any further scrutiny.

The Princess shrugged, nonchalantly. "I tracked you."

_Impressive. The little dove at least had a little practical knowledge_. Mulan thought bitterly, though mildly awed. She could count on a single hand the number of people who had successfully managed to sneak up on her, and it wasn't numerous. Yet the young Princess seemed to have come incredibly close to succeeding. She sighed. "Then, come. Keep watch with me. The woods are lonely tonight, and we'll be safer and warmer if we stay together."

Aurora smiled, and sidled onto the rock next to the proud Warrior. At such a close proximity, Mulan could see the tiny diadem glinting in her hair, and the soft curls of chestnut that cascaded down her shoulders. A fine blush colored her soft fair cheeks, and the remnants of a crushed leaf and a broken twig were tangled in her soft locks. _Results of her tripping fall of an entrance_, mused Mulan.

Conflict clawed at Mulan's heart. In so many ways, Phillip had been right. Aurora was beautiful. She was graceful. She was fair. She was clever and kind. She was everything that the Warrior was not….and everything that Mulan sometimes, in her secretes of hearts, wished she herself could be. She was a woman any man could love. Mulan snorted derisively, half out of jealousy, half at herself.

"Why did you come out here? It's dangerous for you Princess. You should go back to Emma and Snow." Mulan snapped, her tone harsher than intended and crueler than deserved. She regretted the words as soon as they were off her tongue.

Aurora recoiled, as if physically hurt by the Warrior's words. But, to Mulan's surprise, she did not cry nor turn to leave. She did not back down. Rather, the clear crystal eyes became hard as ice on a frozen river and arching brows drew down into a fiery scowl.

"I am not a child." Aurora replied, low and strong. Her voice, which once seemed so innocent and naive suddenly held an air of controlled fury and authority.

"Do you know how many people I have met that think me helpless? That think me weak and fragile as glass?" She challenged, leaning close to emphasize the heat of her wounded pride. "All my life I have been told that I can do nothing…that I am a burden…that I am slowing people down." She spat. The venom in her voice made Mulan flinch back in surprise.

"Even you and Emma and Snow…you who are supposed to be my friends…you treat me as if I am the weak link of the chain. The frail Princess of the group. Precious little Aurora. You treat me as a girl, not as a woman. Do you know what that feels like?" Mingled fury and tears welled in eyes of lipid blue.

Guilt roiled in her stomach as Mulan recalled her own words to the young Princess when they'd first met. _'You'll only slow me down' _the phrase echoed cruelly in her memory. She recalled resentment at her father when he had expected her to behave as other girls in her village. He had treated her as a girl, but not a woman. As a child, but not as an individual. As if she had no worth or value beyond wearing pretty dresses and attracting the attentions of a man.

"I-I am sorry…I meant no disrespect, Princess." Mulan replied, suddenly surprised to find herself unable to meet the Princess's gaze and astonished at how similar she and Aurora could be. Different people from different worlds, yet sharing the same struggles.

Suddenly the woods did not feel so alone.

"I was simply…frustrated…at myself. My temper got the best of me. My apologies." The Warrior murmured, ashamed.

Aurora nodded, her expression softening. "I understand. Sometimes I do the same. My father used to say I was far too headstrong." She leaned back on an elbow, lazily staring up at the constellations up above.

Mulan chuckled softly. "I'll bet you were quite a handful."

Aurora arched an eyebrow at Mulan's tone of gentle teasing affection.

"Oh, you better believe it. I was quite the wild-child." Aurora's voice held a warm, genuine smile. Something deep inside Mulan liked that.

"You know," Aurora whispered, fiddling with the hem of her shawl "I wish I were more like you, sometimes."

Mulan stiffened. Words eluded her. _More like me?!_ She thought, dumbfounded. "But…I would give anything to be more like you." She blurted.

Aurora sat up, surprise painted openly across her features. "But …._why_?!"

"Because" the Warrior sighed "you are everything a man wants in a woman. I…am not. I cannot cook or sew or sing pretty songs…I can only fight."

Silence reigned over the pair. Only the sound of cricket songs echoed in the clearing for a long while, as they both studied each other in mutual surprise, and awe filled understanding.

Then Aurora did a most astonishing thing. She laughed. High and happily, shattering the silence as her cheeks flushed, her sides shook, and her eyes crinkled with the hearty honesty of her mirth.

"What's so funny?" asked Mulan, bewildered and slightly put off.

"Those are the very things that I like about you!" Aurora gasped. "They are what make you so special to me. You are willing to fight for what you believe in, and you don't care what anyone else thinks. I find that very….beautiful." The Princess flushed scarlet at her own honesty and choice of words.

Mulan was suddenly very aware of a heat growing in her neck and cheeks. "You…think I am beautiful? Even though I dress as a man? And wield a sword?"

"Yes." Whispered Aurora, tugging nervously at the hem of her dress.

"Well…I find you…beautiful…too." Mulan desperately tried to avoid eye contact as the words burbled forth. She instead decided to busy herself by picking the bits of leaf and twig out of Aurora's hair as she spoke. "You are spirited inside and self sacrificing. You place the needs of your friends and your people above your own. That is something not even many Warriors possess. I think you are very strong, and you have a good heart, Princess. "The last leaf-bit fluttered to the ground as Mulan finished, though her war-worn hands remained gently caressing the Princess's hair.

"I-I think you are braver than anyone I have ever known." Mulan murmured, dark eyes honestly searching the depths of pale blue.

What happened next left Mulan in a spinning whirl of muddled details and confused giddiness. Aurora, in an impulse that took the seasoned Warrior by surprise, cupped the suntanned skin of Mulan's cheek and gently crushed herself to her. Soft lips were hungry, and insistent, but hesitant.

Mulan tasted fervency, ache, longing, and saltiness of tears unshed in the depths of the kiss. She tasted Aurora's strength, and her weakness. She tasted her love and her fear. But most of all, she tasted how very human Aurora was.

Her Warrior heart thudded in her chest as she deepened the kiss, responding gently with both vulnerability and a calm physical strength that had always been at the core of her nature. She tried to show her Princess how much this kiss had healed. How many hurts, how many hates, how many scoffs and scars were made whole under their lips. She tried to make the Princess understand, through her kiss, that for the first time, Mulan felt beautiful. Every bit of her felt loved.

_Oh. So this is what it feels like. _Her blood thrummed with energy, pleasure, and freedom.

Far off an owl hooted balefully, and its mate called back.


End file.
